


Ovis Cymraeg

by Jadesfire



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-29
Updated: 2010-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-08 10:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesfire/pseuds/Jadesfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owen comes up with a new way to feed Myfanwy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ovis Cymraeg

  
It was the shouting that drew Jack's attention. As he climbed the stairs to the Tourist Office, he could make out Owen's strident tones and, surprisingly, Ianto's raised voice, his accent exaggerated by indignation. Ianto hardly ever shouted, normally relying on a sarcastic look and a raised eyebrow to get his point across. Whatever it was, it had to be serious.

At the top of the stairs, Jack pushed open the secret door, hearing a thud and a yelp from the other side.

"Watch it!" Rubbing his shoulder, Ianto scowled at Jack as he came into the room.

"I know we don't often talk about your job description," Jack said, ignoring the black look, "but doorstop wasn't on the list, last time I checked."

Ianto opened his mouth to answer, but the first sound to emerge was a strange, bleating noise. Raising an eyebrow, Jack leaned to one side so he could see past, to where Owen was standing.

Under Jack's scrutiny, Owen stood up straighter, squaring his shoulders as though ready for a fight. It might have worked on Weevils, but Jack was less than impressed. Especially when his eyes moved from Owen's defiant expression to the piece of rope in his hands, to the thing tethered at the other end of the rope.

The sheep, on the other hand, appeared to be unmoved by the whole experience. It bleated again as Jack stared at it, shuffling a little but otherwise apparently unperturbed by the strange surroundings and yelling men. Taking a deep breath, Jack looked from Owen to Ianto and back again.

"Right," he said cheerfully. "Who's going first?"

Owen was marginally quicker. "It's for Myfanwy," he said, glaring at Ianto. "She should be hunting, not picking up scraps like we feed her."

"So you bought that?"

"Got it off a mate of mine." Owen shifted under Jack's steady gaze. "Thought I'd keep in the cells till it gets dark, let Myfanwy out into the Plass, then send the sheep out and, well..." He shrugged. "Let nature take its course like it's meant to."

Jack held Owen's eye for a few more seconds, then blinked and looked over at Ianto.

"I take it you object? On principle?"

"On the principle that it's a bloody stupid idea." Glancing from Owen to Jack and back again, Ianto shook his head. "For one thing, we don't feed Myfanwy scraps; the butcher's bill's getting out of hand. For another, we've no way of knowing where the sheep will end up, no way of knowing where Myfanwy will end up and what if she doesn't recognise it as food? I know she ate them out in the wild, but we've had her for a while now and she's semi-trained."

There was a mumbling from Owen.

"What was that?" Jack asked, not looking away from Ianto.

"I said, I was going to cover the sheep in the barbeque sauce."

Biting the inside of his lip, hard, Jack just about managed not to smile. "I would have thought mint sauce was more appropriate," he murmured, then turned back to Ianto. "Well?"

"It's still a stupid idea." Ianto was using that wide-eyed, pleading look which by-passed Jack's brain in favour of other organs. That was cheating, Jack knew, and he would have been annoyed if he hadn't happened to agree.

Owen took advantage of the brief silence to start talking again. "Look, all I thought was that it might stop her nicking stuff so much if we could find interesting things for her to do. She had three scalpels and a pair of surgical scissors off my desk the other day. And Tosh's glasses were never quite the same again."

"I told you not to leave shiny things lying around." Ianto turned away from Jack, his voice rising again. "Just cos you're too damn lazy to tidy up after yourself! It's not her fault..."

Leaning back against the wall, Jack let them shout at each other for a while. The argument progressed from comparison of intelligence levels to parentage to sexual habits, at which point he decided he'd better stop them. They could probably be heard in Swansea.

"...pea-brained twpsyn..."

"...probably sleep with the damn thing..."

"That's enough." Jack rarely needed to raise his voice, and his firm tone was enough to make them both look round. "Owen, you said you got the sheep from a friend?"

"Yeah, well..."

Almost despite himself, Jack looked from Owen to the sheep and back again. He was not going to use the phrase 'sheepish expression, not even in the confines of his own head, even if, right now, he couldn't think of a more appropriate description.

"Let's have it," he said, knowing a confessional tone when he heard it.

"I kind of won it."

The splutter of laughter wasn't quite the most undignified noise Jack had ever heard Ianto make, but it was close.

"You won it," he repeated, carefully keeping his eyes on Owen. "And since your landlord doesn't let you have pets..."

"What the hell else am I meant to do with it? Get off!" The sheep had chosen that moment to explore whether or not Owen's trousers were edible, and it let out an indignant 'baa' when he shoved it away. "Come on, Jack. What harm can it do?"

The mental image of a sheep, covered in Myfanwy's barbeque sauce, being chased across Roald Dahl Plass by a pterodactyl, as Owen cheered it on, was almost too much for Jack and he made himself look away, trying not to catch Ianto's eye, for fear of losing it completely.

"Right," he said, clearing his throat with an effort. "No, Owen. Sorry, but no. We'll find a home for the sheep that doesn't involve risk to people or property."

"Fine. But I'm not looking after it." So saying, Owen thrust the rope into Ianto's hands and strode towards the stairs. Jack could hear him still muttering as he headed down into the Hub and wasn't surprised that those were the only Welsh words Owen knew.

Ianto was watching the sheep carefully, still holding onto the end of the rope. Without looking up, he said,

"One word, and you're sleeping with the Weevils tonight."

"Not a syllable. Although if you two would like to be alone..." He ducked back down the stairs hurriedly and was still chuckling when he reached the Hub, where he grinned at the others' confused faces. "Shepherd's pie for dinner, anyone?"


End file.
